


Underneath

by Angryangryowl



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Established Relationship, Lingerie, M/M, Public Sex, Shopping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-02
Updated: 2016-09-02
Packaged: 2018-08-12 14:14:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7937761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angryangryowl/pseuds/Angryangryowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Matt likes to buy Techie pretty things. Silks and satin and lace. They go shopping together whilst taking some planetside leave.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Underneath

**Author's Note:**

> Day one of the 30 days of Techienician challenge. The prompt was 'Shopping'

Techie doesn’t buy nice things. Most everything he owns is patched or greased-stained or requisitioned from something else. His shoes tie with old string, the knees of the scruffy cut-offs he wears have been patched so often they are more thread and patches than fabric, and his shirt is stained with at least five different types of grease. The cuffs are worn from being chewed and pulled over his hands when he’s anxious.

But he insists to Matt that it’s fine. Clothes are practical, a resource, useful only in keeping warm, covering nakedness (especially his skinny ribs and too-soft belly), and protection from assorted burns and scalds. He has no need for pretty things.

But Matt sees how he makes Techie feel pretty sometimes. How he eventually stops scrabbling for blankets, pajamas, anything to avoid walking across the room naked to the refresher when they’re alone. He’s a little nervous, but he walks with a slight swing to his hips. He lets Matt watch him, watch him finish himself, spread out naked and vulnerable on the bed, looking Matt helplessly in the eye as he orgasms.

Matt wants Techie to have pretty things, if Techie would let him he’d spend all his pay on beads and bangles and silks and lace, scented oils and soaps and flowers for his hair. But Techie always protests, it’s too much, he doesn’t need them. 

But he can be persuaded a little. He still wears the little pendant Matt buys him from his homeworld, strung on a slim chain with three small, but obviously handmade, glass beads. Yellow, Techie’s favourite colour. A rich navy blue, Matt’s favourite. And a little deep red glass heart. He wears it, along with his First Order dogtags, under his uniform.

He wears the pair of silk shorts, tastefully trimmed with lace that barely grazes his buttocks. Matt tells him they make his legs look like they go on forever. Techie blushes as Matt kisses every inch, from his toes to the crease at the top of his thigh, to prove how long they are.

So when Matt persuades him to just take a look with him, dip into this tiny, tucked away boutique in an anonymous city..well, the slightly impish grin he gets in response is worth the daring. There are beautiful things, in lace and silk and some of them in polished hide, for all species. There’s a strong, heady smell of incense, and the shop is lit by hundreds of small, flickering glass globes of light, suspended at various heights from the ceiling.

There are racks of carefully hung items, shorts, knickers, scraps of lace, short dresses, so spiderweb-delicate Matt is slightly afraid to touch them. Bottles and vials and jars of perfumes and lotions, interspersed with vases and jars of fresh flowers, making the air thick and stupefying with perfume. Almost every surface, including the ceiling is draped with heavy, deep purple cloth.

Techie has wandered over to a rack near the back of the shop, and runs the sheer, delicate cloth of a top between his fingers. Well, it’s barely a top. Delicate straps at the shoulders, a silky back bow in the centre of the chest. Below that, it splits down the front, enough to reveal the wearer’s belly when they move. The thought of that makes Matt’s pulse spike. 

‘Try it on’ Matt whispers behind him, his hands resting on Techie’s hips.

‘It’s a bit much..’

‘You’d look beautiful.’

‘I mean, it’s more than I make in a week.’ He says, turning over the tag to show Matt, but reaching up to kiss his cheek anyway.

‘Just try it. If it’s uncomfortable or it’s too much, we don’t have to get it.’ Matt says, returning the kiss on Techie’s cheek.

Techie finds the fitting room, effectively just a thick velvet curtain covering a cupboard at the back of the shop, the shopkeeper, a bored-looking, older twi’lek female, nods to him to continue into the room. Matt busies himself examining the labels of a few jars. He’s just pondering what something that promises to taste of exotic fruits would taste like licked off Techie when another customer enters, and asks to be shown the selection of hide restraints towards the front of the shop.

Matt takes his opportunity and slips into the fitting room with Techie. He forgets to close his mouth for a moment at the sight that greets him. Techie has loosened his hair from his usual ponytail and let it hang down his back, feathery with split ends across his shoulderblades. The fabric of the top just grazes the tops of his milky thighs at the back, and in the soft light Matt can only see a suggestion of the curve of his rear. He’s distracted by how he wants to gather Techie up, press all that billowing fabric close to him and reacquaint himself with every veiled ridge and dip and hollow of Techie’s body.

The room is a little crowded, with the two of them, an over-stuffed loveseat piled opulently with cushions, and the heavy, ornately framed mirror leaning against one wall.

Techie is admiring hiself in the mirror, tweaking the garment and smoothing each imaginary crease from it. It fits perfectly, emphasizing his delicate collarbones. He sways his hips, a little smile playing on his lips as the fabric swishes around him. The split down the front is barely visible until he moves, and it becomes obvious he’s wearing nothing underneath it.

‘Um..I hope you don’t mind.’ Matt says, feeling a little creepy just watching him.

‘Oh, no..’ Techie turns back to him, still smiling ‘What do you think?’

‘I..I can’t think. But you’re beautiful. Prettiest thing in the whole galaxy.’ 

Techie doesn’t protest, only loops his arms about Matt’s neck, lets him push the loose fabric aside, rustling softly against his skin, to slide his warm, rough hands around his waist.

‘I want to keep you like this.’ he whispers, dipping to kiss his exposed neck. He’s suddenly very aware of the shop around them and trying to be quiet.

‘You’re sure it’s not a bit- oh!’ His fervent whispering is interrupted by Matt’s lips on that particularly sensitive spot between neck and shoulder.

‘It’s perfect. You’re perfect.’ Matt murmurs into the hollow of his shoulder, slipping his hand down his back to cup his rear. ‘I want you..’

‘Here?’ Techie is so scandalized he forgets to whisper.

‘Shhh!’ Matt hushes, barely containing a giggle. ‘But maybe not here...maybe..’

He abandons the sentence in favour of kissing Techie again. He’s warm, the honeyed spiced tea they drank with lunch still tangy and sweet on his lips. The helpless whimper when he licks into his mouth is sweeter. Techie pulls him back, sinking into the cushions with his long legs around Matt’s waist.

They forget where they are, forget everything except their mouths and hands on each other. Matt brushes his hair aside to continue his trail of kisses down his neck, Techie whimpering beneath him, bucking his hips wantonly when Matt nips at his shoulder,

‘We’re getting this...because I need far more time than we have with you like this.’ Matt huffs against his ear.

‘Agreed.’ 

‘But I need..I want..’ Matt rolls his hips against Techie.

‘We can be back to our room in ten minutes, you know..’ Techie says with a sly smile.

‘Alright, fellas, enough’s enough!’ she shopkeeper calls from the other side of the curtain ‘You get anything on those pillows that isn’t supposed to be, you’re buying ‘em!’

Blushing furiously, they both straighten their clothes, and Matt leaves Techie to get dressed whilst he purchases the top, together with a couple of jars and bottles in various scents and flavours, all without actually looking the shopkeeper in the eye.

Five minutes later, Techie’s back is pressed to the door of their lodgings, Matt kissing him breathless. Techie’s thighs twining around his waist, because he’s not letting go, not now, not ever.


End file.
